


Dragonborn

by Ros3mary



Category: Skyrim, South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ros3mary/pseuds/Ros3mary
Summary: Stanley Marshwalker was a good person, he thought.He was an excellent swordsman, moral of heart, and he worked diligently and loyally under his Jarl, who, to Stanley’s credit, was an insufferable douche.But everything in his life is about to change.Kyle Broflovski is a foreign elf, with untameable hair and a matching personality. As the Thane of Whiterun, he has the privilege of obtaining loyal Stanley Marshwalker as his housecarl.Oh, and he’s also the Dragonborn and he drags said Stanley - poor Stanley - on crazy adventures.A.K.A- I didn’t sign up for this shit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ever imagined the South Park kids in Skyrim? No? That’s just me? 
> 
> Well, here you go anyway!
> 
> Main Style
> 
> It’s important to not concentrate too hard on their “inventory”- it doesn’t make sense in the game, it doesn’t make sense here.

“You’ve done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn.”

Jarl Cartman’s voice echoed through the hall of Dragonsreach. It would have been impressive, Stanley thought, had his Jarl’s voice not been drawling and lazy, per usual. 

“By my right as Jarl, I name you thane of Whiterun.”

Thane? Stanley perked up, twisting in his position to see better of the newcomer, this Dragonborn. 

“It’s the greatest honor that’s within my power to grant. I assign you Stanley, as your personal housecarl, and this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office.”

Stanley’s ears tuned out the rest of the ceremony, and he walked with urgency from his post to see the newcomer. His thane.

He would be serving this man - or woman, he thought - until his or their life ended.

Despite himself, his heartbeat had quickened drastically, and his eyes of deep blue were alight with excitement.

No more boring guard duties! Farewell, grueling patrols! Goodbye, long training hours!

Finally, Stanley would be fulfilling his purpose. A thane to work under, protect and serve till his last breath - Stanley’s toes curled in the padding of his steel plated boots as he thought it. 

Now, if he could only see his thane...

“We are honored to have you as thane of our city, Dragonborn.”

”The honor is mine. Thank you, Jarl.”

That was him! His voice was higher pitched than Stanley would have thought, not as manly, bordering on feminine. Stanley couldn’t explain why he loved it so much so instantly.

He rounded the corner, approaching the Jarl’s throne just in time to see him wave away the figure at his front.

_That’s him._

The figure was at least half a head smaller than Stanley, with steel plated armor that covered what Stanley could see as pale, fair skin dusted with faint rust freckles. He had an ebony sword glowing with red enchantment in his sheath, steel shield on his arm, and a plated helmet tucked between his arm and his side. He turned away from the Jarl and Stanley’s foot shuddered in the air, landing hard. He couldn’t breathe.

His thane had loose, wild red curls over a small face dusted with more rusty freckles on pale skin. His ears were long and elegant, an elf’s, definitely, and his eyes, crackling in the firelight, were the fiercest, purest, most beautiful shade of emerald Stanley had ever seen. 

He was stunning. 

And he was walking right towards Stanley.

”You are...?” His thane said expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

Stanley closed his hanging mouth and said, “Stanley Marshwalker, thane.” Remembering the protocol that had been hammered into his brain, he dropped to one knee, held tenderly his thane’s left hand, and let his lips skim against his thane’s knuckles softly. “It is an honor to be able to serve you.”

His thane cleared his throat, clearly flustered. Stanley held back a beam as he stood up, but he couldn’t stop the small, admiring smile.

”What exactly is a housecarl?” His thane asked, shifting to look up to meet Stanley’s eyes. He was squinting, clearly displeased by the height difference. If Stanley could shrink, he would.

As it was, Stanley smiled brightly, glad to be able to enlighten his thane. “A housecarl is a thane’s personal servant. I am yours. I will carry out any order you give me to the best of my ability, and protect you with mine own sword until my last breath.”

His thane seemed much more interested in the first bit. “Any orders, you’ll follow through?” He asked, almost cheekily.

”Yes.” Stanley said, nodding dutifully. “I will fall on my own sword if that is what you wish of me.”

The Dragonborn raised both eyebrows, clearly impressed. Stanley was, too, when he realized he truly meant it.

”Alright... Stanley, is it?” 

Stanley nodded again.

”I’m Kyle.” He wrinkled his nose, as if smelling something unpleasant. “Stanley is too formal. Can I call you Stan?”

”If it pleases you, thane.” 

“Alright. We will be doing much traveling, so if you need to gather belongings, now would be the time.”

Stan could only think of a few things he needed, but one in particular. “Thane, I have a dog that fights with me. Will you permit it to travel with us?”

”A dog?” Kyle repeated, looking pleasantly surprised. “I don’t see why not. The more the merrier. Get it, and your belongings, and meet me in the stables at noon.”

”Yes, thane,” Stan said, stalling for a moment too long to watch his thane walk through the doors of Dragonsreach and away. 

 

Within the first few minutes of their separation, Stan was racked with worry. 

Bandits. Dragons. Mercenaries. Theives. Wolves. Snakes. Poisons. So many things could harm, or kill, Kyle in so little time. It was infuriating! And it gave Stan’s usually steady fingers a slight tremble as he collected a meager collection of belongings, as he had chosen to leave most behind.

His steel sword, with a sharpened edge and enriched metal. 

His wealth - three thousand gold coin in savings. Not a lot, but enough to keep him afloat in tight situarions. 

His armor and shield, a dagger, bow and arrows, and a random collection of other things that might come in handy.

And of course, his dog, Spark.

Stan was ready to embark on his new life.

 

At noon, he was at the stables, a satchel containing his gatherings on his belt, his dog trotting at his feet, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. The hours separated from his thane were too long. 

What was he doing in that time? Stan thought idly. 

He didn’t have much time to wonder, as soon he saw Kyle, seated atop a horse with deep black fur and white patches. He was in conversation with the stable manager, and didn’t see Stan until Stan was at his side.

 _A horse._ ~~~~Stan thought. He had been trained in endurance, for this occasion, to be able to follow his thane even when he was atop a horse. It didn’t stop his heart from falling into his stomach at the long hours of running he saw for himself.

Kyle’s emerald eyes found Stan, and he seemed pleased. “Good. You’re here.”

Stan nodded once, at attention.

”Do you have a horse?”

A horse? “No.”

Kyle seemed to expect this answer. He handed the stable master a heavy looking coin purse, with the instruction, “Bring out another.”

The man went into the stables, and Kyle looked down idly at Stan’s dog. “Can he keep up with the horses?” He inquired.

Stan was still a little startled. “Spark... oh, yes, he’ll be able to.”

Kyle nodded. “Good. Wouldn’t want him to be left behind.”

Stan looked down at Spark, the russet brown dog sitting on its rear, watching Stan with brown, near black eyes.

In only a few moments, the stable master was leading out a gray horse flecked with white, fully saddled. He handed the reins to Stan, who accepted them and mounted the horse with little grace. He almost slipped trying to steady his feet in the feet-things, and felt dismay when he saw Kyle failing to hide an amused smile, as one might look at a child.

He sat up straight in the saddle, attempting to compose the same easy nobility Kyle possessed. 

For a few moments, his thane studied a yellowed map, lips moving silently as if reading.

Then, he rolled it up and slipped it into a satchel, and began to take the lead on his horse. After a few steps he was level with Stan. 

Even on a horse he was small. Stan felt a ridiculous surge of affection.

”You can ride, right?” Kyle asked, looking at Stan with a furrowed brow.

”Of course.” Stan said. He was desperate to prove himself, but he wasn’t lying. “I will be able to keep up.” He assured Kyle.

His thane nodded, seeming satisfied, and with a light tap of his heels his horse was taking off along the cobbled road at a light trot. 

Stan followed, urging his mare ahead, careful to stay a respectful distance behind his thane.

Kyle noticed this, and twisted in his saddle to look at Stan. “You can ride beside me,” he implored.

Stan nodded and guided the gray mare forward to ride shoulder to shoulder with Kyle. It felt too informal, and made Stan uneasy, but if it was what his thane wished...

”Your mare’s name is Snowfire,” Kyle said, looking at the white-speckled beast. Stan nodded again, unsure what to do with this information. With a chuckle, Kyle said, “She cost a pretty penny, too, so try not to let her die.”

”I could pay you back,” Stan said instantly, glancing at the satchel he knew to hold his coin purse.

Kyle laughed, shaking his head. “No, no,” He said, “You misunderstand. You don’t need to pay me back. Consider it a... gift.”

Stan nodded slowly - he’d been doing a lot of that lately - his brow furrowed. A gift? From a thane to his housecarl? It was unheard of.

”You sure like nodding.” Kyle said after an awkward silence.

Stan bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just... usually, housecarls don’t make small talk with their thanes.” He winced inwardly at his wording, noticing the way Kyle’s small shoulders seemed to fall a bit. “I mean, uh, you tell me what to do and I do it- it’s usually not very personal.”

Kyle nodded, staring straight ahead. “Alright,” he murmured. “My apologies.”

Stan wanted to punch something. “What I mean is- I don’t, you know, not want to talk to you- I’m just... been raised on the protocol, I...”

Kyle looked him dead in the eye, reasserting his indifferent composure. “I get it.” He said. After a heartbeat he nudged his horse forward, a clear order, and Stan followed behind compliantly, not sure whether to be relieved or terribly upset. 

 _Well,_ he thought,  _what an excellent first impression._

Stan was sure he couldn’t mess up worse.

 

After several long hours of riding, Kyle turned his horse around to look at Stan. “There’s a bandit camp up ahead,” He said. “We’re going to pillage it.”

Stan nodded.

Kyle did, too, though he seemed displeased. He dismounted, looping his horse’s reins over a bit of branch. Stan followed suit, securing Snowfire’s reins and dropping into the same flexible crouch Kyle was in.

The bandit camp in question was a crude place of tents, fenced off by a wooden wall sharpened to spikes at the top. Kyle moved in a fast crouch towards the camp’s wooden gate, and Stan did as well, drawing his sword when Kyle unsheathed his. 

Suddenly Kyle stopped, and Stan almost bumped into him. The elf drew a slender, curved ebony bow and nocked an arrow. He began picking off guards atop small stumpy towers, dispatching them with one arrow apiece. 

Stan watched and marveled at his thane’s ability. His hands were sure and steady, emerald eyes dark in concentration. When the last guard toppled, and the alarm sounded, Kyle stood and pushed through the gate, pulling out an ebony sword that pulsed with a red enchantment. With a wild cry, the red headed elf threw himself into the camp of his enemies. 

It was all Stan could do to follow suit, pulse pounding in his ears as he sidestepped, swung, blocked, swung, sliced. The iron tang of blood hit his nose, and he nervously licked his lips.

An iron sword fell towards him, and he cried out, clumsily blocking with his shield just before the sword took off with his hand. He bashed the attacker with the blunt of his shield and swung his steel sword through the bandit’s chest piece. He only thought to check for Kyle when his own attackers had all fallen, and was pleased - despite the harsh mental berating he gave himself about his lapse of judgement - to see his thane safe, picking over the fallen bodies towards a large tent. 

“Stan,” his thane called, bringing Stan to attention at once, “stand guard.”

”Yes, thane.” Stan said. He stood just outside the large tent flaps Kyle had vanished into, watching the surroundings. He crouched for a moment to wipe his bloodied sword on the grass and cleanse it. 

When Kyle reappeared, he looked mildly annoyed, and waved for Stan to follow as he walked back towards the horses. Spark was guarding them, apparently, as his muzzle was bloody and two wolf corpses were near. 

Kyle mounted his horse with an easy grace, whereas Stan attempted to mount respectably and looked, most likely, like a fool. 

“We’re two thirds of the way to Falkreath.” Kyle said, rubbing his thumb over a wrinkle in the left bottom corner on his map.

”Why are we going to Falkreath?” Stan asked innocently, attempting to cover up for his earlier mistake by making small talk.

Kyle glanced at him critically, as if scolding him for speaking out of place. Stan winced and looked away quickly. 

“I’m going to come into contact with the Dark Brotherhood.” Kyle said, surprising Stan for more than one reason.

”The Dark Brotherhood? Why?” Stan cried, incredulous.

Kyle looked grim. “They have something that belongs to me.”

Stan chewed the inside of his mouth but didn’t speak out of turn again.

Kyle cast him an irritated look, saying, “Don’t do that.”

 Stan jumped, startled. “What?”

Kyle sighed. “Don’t bite the inside of your cheek. It’s a bad habit.”

”Oh. Uhm, sorry, thane.” Stan said. He stopped biting his cheek and clamped his teeth together. 

His thane rolled his eyes, urging his black and white horse into motion. Stan followed, holding the reins with one hand. He matched Kyle’s easy trot, staying behind by a few feet. Kyle slowed for a heartbeat, and before Stan had time to copy this the horses were trotting shoulder to shoulder.

Stan didn’t complain, but he shifted in discomfort in his saddle. His eyes of deep blue glanced at the hand Kyle used to hold his reins. It was his left. 

For reasons Stan couldn’t discern to himself, Stan’s eyes flicked down to Kyle’s wedding finger. A simple silver ring.

Uncomfortable with the feelings this gave him, Stan looked away quickly.

Kyle hummed a haunting tune beside Stan, and although no words were spoken or sung, Stan felt heavy waves of longing and homesickness wash through his chest, weighing him down with a near physical pressure. 

He didn’t realize he was crying until cold tears splashed onto his hand, which gripped the reins shakily.

Kyle saw this, too, and let out a gasp. His humming cut off abruptly. “Stan! I’m so sorry, I thought without words- I didn’t mean to- oh, I’m sorry.”

The horses had halted. Stan used his cloak to wipe at the tear tracks left on his cheeks. “What are you talking about?” He managed.

”The song I was humming- it’s one of great longing and sadness. I didn’t realize... I thought without words, it might not affect you so much.” 

Stan shrugged. He went to bite the inside of his cheek but cut himself off, remembering the order his thane had given him. Instead, he ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. 

Kyle looked dismayed, reaching out to wipe a lingering tear from Stan’s face. The movement made Stan jerk in surprise, watching Kyle with wide eyes as his thane’s slender, pale fingers hovered on Stan’s face. 

After a moment Kyle pulled his arm back, clearing his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. I’m- let’s keep moving.”

Stan nodded dumbly, twisting back to look at Spark, who was following still, before joining his thane on the cobbled road. 

This time, he rode right beside him, and this seemed to make Kyle smile.

I’m learning, Stan thought, feeling confident. Soon he would be able to know what made Kyle smile, and it would be his personal goal to ensure that his thane did so as frequently as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Kyle had never been good with expressing his emotions.

That was why when Stan awkwardly explained that housecarls didn’t make “small talk” with their thanes, Kyle didn’t try to explain to the swordsman that Kyle had been hoping for companionship.

Kyle had gone on too many adventures alone, and he missed the easy talk between friends he used to know. Though, admittedly, he hadn’t been given a chance for such relaxation before he had been crowned, either. He thought back to his childhood, when he hadn’t been allowed friendships with anything but nobility. It would have been nice to have someone like Stan around on those lonely days in royal gardens.

On the topic of Stan...

Kyle had been pleasantly surprised when that handsome, tall noirette with stunning eyes of sapphire had dutifully explained that he would fall on his own sword at a snap of Kyle’s fingers. Maybe it had been a little intense, but Kyle had been instantly impressed - and he had been very pleased when Stan’s easy to read personality showed to be so charming. It would be a lie to say that Kyle wasn’t charmed. He wondered idly what trouble his handsome housecarl would - unintentionally - get him into, in the minefield of Kyle’s own head.

Kyle was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the line of bandits blocking their path until beside him, Stan said in a quiet but strained voice, “Thane...” prompting Kyle to look up from his map and see the issue.

“Damn bandits,” he muttered, slowing his stallion - Cadoc - to a halt.

When he recognized the lead bandit, sat atop a chestnut stallion, his annoyance deepened further.

“David.” He acknowledged.

His childhood annoyance smiled smugly, the way he used to when he had Kyle backed against a wall. This did nothing to lessen the elf’s irritation. “That would be Chief David to you, old friend.”

”Chief? I don’t know - I’m quite sure I still outrank you.” Kyle said, doing his best to portray a bored and mildly irritated expression. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snowfire prance nervously, responding to her rider’s uncertainty. He didn’t have time to stress over Stan’s worry.

“Perhaps back home. Here? I’m not so sure.”

Kyle rose a lazy eyebrow, looking at the line of bandits that flanked David’s bay stallion. “Perhaps. It seems you’ve made a name for yourself by amassing a group of thieves and bastards.”

David’s eyebrow twitched. “Oh, and your company is far superior.” His onyx eyes turned to Stan, and Kyle bristled. “Stanley Marshwalker, best swordsman in all the nine holds. Housecarl to the thane of Whiterun. Yes, I know you.” David turned his attention back to Kyle. “It seems you can’t help but force your way through the ranks, hmm? I pity you - surely Jarl Cartman only understood your desperation for recognition.”

Kyle wanted to spit a line of curses at the elf, or better, Shout him into oblivion, but he held his tongue in check. “It is quite easy to make something of yourself in Skyrim, if you possess the qualities to. I’m sure it’s a trait of mine you must envy.” He waved vaguely at the bandits, which were looking wary and uncertain. “Now, if you’d please call your friends off, we would love to cross this lovely bridge of yours and continue on our way.”

David smiled in a coolly pleasant manner. “Of course,” He said, “but this bridge happens to be under my name - it’s a toll bridge, see.”

Kyle very highly doubted this, but every second talking to the maggot David made his skin crawl. “Very well. What’s your price?”

”One thousand septims per person.” David smiled, showing his teeth.

Kyle felt like cutting them out. Wordlessly, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a heavy coin purse. It had roughly two thousand, maybe a bit more. Kyle didn’t care. He tossed David the purse, managing to do so while making it look like charity, then led through the small gap the bandits made. Stan followed through single-file, and Kyle felt ever grateful for his company. The swordsman seemed to have a soothing presence to Kyle, smoothing over the elf’s temper.

While crossing the bridge, Stan asked in a hushed voice, “Who was that?”

”Shh.” Kyle said, barely moving his lips. “Wait till we’re far enough away.”

After the bridge was a fleck in the distance, Kyle let out a bone-deep sigh. Stan looked at him with wary concern, and Kyle felt ridiculously comforted.

”David,” Kyle said, “is a high elf like me, I’m sure you noticed. Back in Summerset Isle, he was a childhood... was someone I knew since childhood. He’s always been annoying, completely focused on the crown. I’ve been rejecting his advances since he was old enough to realized that if he married me, he would have power.”

”Power? And what did you say about outranking him? What is your rank?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, but was secretly thrilled at Stan’s eagerness to talk.

”Here, I am Dragonborn, and your thane. In my homeland, well, I am king.”

Stan’s mouth dropped open. “You’re a king?!”

Kyle shifted in his saddle. “Yes. Well, I have some questions for you too, Stan. Best swordsman in the nine holds?”

Stan blanked, obviously surprised at the conversation’s turn towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I’m good I guess...”

”Good, you guess?”

”Well, I don’t know about all nine holds. I’ve only been to four.”

Kyle hummed, looking away. “Well, we’ll just see about that.”

Stan looked uncertain, and a little nervous, but followed Kyle’s lapse into silence. It didn’t last as long as Kyle expected.

“You said you’ve been... resisting his advances? To marry you?” Stan said nervously, not looking at Kyle.

Kyle’s brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at Stan. “Yes.” He said, wondering why Stan was still hooked up on that.

“Was it because you were with someone else?”

Kyle bit back a smile. Oh.

“No.”

“So...”

“I just didn’t want to marry him. There’s no one else.”

Stan tapped his fingers on his leg, a cute nervous habit, and Kyle noted this with a tiny, knowing smile. Much to Kyle’s disappointment, Stan let the topic fall, and didn’t bring it up again.

 

“If you don’t mind my asking...” Stan said after a few hours, apparently willing to talk again, “what does the Dark Brotherhood have that’s yours?”

Kyle’s nose wrinkled, emerald eyes turning dark. “They have my brother.” He finally said.

Stan’s eyes widened. “They kidnapped him?”

“No, no,” Kyle said with a laugh. “He joined willingly. I’m going to rescue him from himself.”

“What if he puts up a fight?” Stan asked.

“Well, I’m expecting that. Ike has these... difficult... phases. I remember when he was four, he jumped out of a window, when the candidate he wanted for the Council wasn’t chosen.” Kyle smiled at the memory, remembering Ike clinging to the window’s pane, wailing and saying he was going to jump.

“Was he terribly hurt?”

Kyle chuckled. “No, the window was a mere few feet off the ground.”

Stan smiled a little, saying, “He could have twisted his ankle.”

“That’s what I said!” Kyle laughed loudly this time. It didn’t last long, but it felt good. “But no, he came up unhurt.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Of course.” Kyle lapses into silence, thinking of his earliest memories of his brother. “When we were children, I used to kick him around a lot. This could get violent. You don’t have to come.”

Stan turned his head, blue eyes holding a surprising amount of calm confidence. “Of course I do. You are my thane. I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

Kyle looked away quickly, uncomfortable with how protected that made him feel.

He was a king, a warrior, the Dragonborn! He didn’t need to be protected.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t.” Stan said with a smug little smile, turning away to look at the road.


End file.
